


The Wrong Door But The Right Place

by CanDanAndPhilNot (enbycalhoun)



Series: Bar AU [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Drinking, Flirting, Gay Bar, Lawyer Dan Howell, M/M, bartender phil lester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23624371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbycalhoun/pseuds/CanDanAndPhilNot
Summary: Phil finds himself in the last place he thought he'd be: working in a bar. It's not quite as bad as he thought it would be, especially when he gets a new regular named Dan.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: Bar AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760779
Comments: 15
Kudos: 65





	The Wrong Door But The Right Place

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> I had so much fun writing The Usual that I had to come back to this AU. Let me know what you think!
> 
> As always thank you tara, itsmyusualphannie, for being an amzing beta, but an even more amazing friend <3

When Phil graduated from university, he was lucky enough to get a job in his field. And god, did he love his job. Every morning he was excited to go to work. His coworkers were all lovely and his boss even more so. 

There was no care in the world for Phil Lester. He had a well-paying editing job, a cozy flat in London, and a boyfriend who treated him nice. That was, until he didn’t.

The company went under and his boyfriend broke up with him, leaving Phil with a pile of student loans and a flat he couldn’t afford. He could have easily moved home, but no, he couldn’t swallow his pride. So, he traded the spacious two bedrooms for a studio on the other side of town. 

Then, there was the little matter of finding a job. It seemed every place he applied or had an interview for, he was underqualified or he just didn’t have enough job experience. 

“Come on, you’ll find something, Phil, cheer up!” 

The last thing Phil wants to do is cheer up. He hasn’t even been in his flat for a month yet and here he is, figuring out how to avoid being evicted already. 

“Thomas,” Phil sighs. “Why are you always so positive?” 

There’s silence in the air as they both munch on the popcorn sitting in Phil's only bowl between them. Phil sits up from the sofa and sighs again. 

“Well one of us has to be, sweetheart.” Thomas sits up next to Phil and he can feel the couch shift under him. At first when he met Thomas, it was strange having a two hundred pound man with a beard down to his chest call him sweetheart, but in the past year Phil's grown accustomed to Thomas' personality. In fact, it is reassuring this time to have the man's thick hand on his knee, squeezing ever so softly. 

“Come on down to Brownstone with me tonight, yeah?” Thomas asks, squeezing Phil's knee again. 

As much as Phil wants to say no, he somehow ends up sitting at the crowded bar on a Saturday night. Brownstone was notorious for being a bear bar. Phil doesn’t know where the twinks hang out, but it definitely isn’t Brownstone. He doesn’t fit in, but he somehow has become a familiar face that tags along with Thomas. Thomas’ Twink Friend Phil. It’s fine with Phil, really, the bartenders are always nice and they know which fruity drinks he likes. 

As if Phil’s life couldn’t get any more out of hand, the owner, Julie, is trying to convince him to work a few nights a week. It doesn’t help that Thomas is there, pushing and reminding him that rent is due soon. There’s also the bartender, Jimmy, who keeps butting in between serving drinks practically begging for the extra help. By the end of the night despite having absolutely zero bartending experience, Phil has signed paperwork, downed at least four Sex on the Beaches, and agrees to come in tomorrow for training. 

Over the next month, Phil surprises himself by how good he gets at bartending, so good that they hire him full time and thank god he can pay his rent. It almost becomes second nature for him to run up and down the bar, remembering tabs and balancing drinks. He becomes obsessed with the fast-paced work and the wonderful regulars that brighten his day. 

On his second month, Phil has fallen into a comfortable routine. He knows when his regulars come in, and he knows the demographic and regular events. So when he’s leaning on the bar on an uneventful, rainy Monday, he’s pleasantly surprised to see a new face. It’s only that this face is not what most faces in the Brownstone looks like. This one reminds Phil of his own. 

“Hi, uh, could I have a White Russian?” The man looks knackered. His hair is brown and curly, wet with rain, and his black suit is slightly damp and his black tie is loose around his neck. Phil silently laughs to himself as the guy’s eyes dart around the bar. It wouldn’t be the first time a straight guy accidentally stumbled into the Brownstone. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry I’m quite new to this. Haven’t done that one yet, what'd you want in it?” Phil dropped his customer service voice a few weeks back for the regulars, but this new face makes it resurface. 

“Yeah, no problem. It’s uh…sorry, long day. In a rocks glass, it’s equal parts of RumChata, Kahlua, vodka, and milk.” His voice is strained. Phil adds a little more vodka than he should. 

“Here, ya’go.” Phil slides the glass in front of the guy. “Tab?” 

“Nah, just...here.” The man lays a ten down and takes a sip. 

Phil takes the money to the register and watches the guy’s reaction out of his peripherals. He lays the change in front of the guy and goes to take a regular another beer. 

“So, do you get a lot of business here? Seems a little small,” suit man asks as Phil comes back over to grab his water from under his side of the bar. 

“Not too much during the week, but the weekends get a little crazy.” Phil sips his water and watches the shitty 90's movie playing on one of the TVs in the corner. 

“Get all the uni kids, yeah?” 

Phil chuckles. “Eh, some. Usually people come for the shows and events.” 

“Yeah? What’s going on this weekend?” 

Phil watches the guy intently as he says, “We've got movie night Friday and our monthly drag show Saturday.” 

The man's eyebrows shoot up, but before he can respond, a regular, Eric, a grizzly man with a deep, rumbling voice walks up. 

“Alright, Phil, I’m ready.” He hands Phil his card.

“Leaving so soon?” Phil asks, pulling his tab up on the touch-screen register. 

“Gotta get home to the old man. You know how Tim gets when I’m late.” 

Phil laughs and brings back his card and a slip to sign. 

“Alright,” Eric sighs, pushing the slip back to Phil and leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek. 

“Take care, sweetheart. We’ll see you Saturday.” 

“Have a good one.” 

The bell over the door chimes as Eric leaves, and Phil turns his attention back to the suited man. 

“Oh my god,” The man laughs. “This is a gay bar, isn’t it?” 

“Sure is, and you can leave if you don’t like it.” 

Phil tries his best to smile and hold his ground. 

“Don’t like it?” There are a few beats of silence before the man laughs again and holds out his hand. “I’m Dan.” 

*~*

Phil doesn’t see Dan again until the next Monday. 

“Hi, Phil.” His suit is dark blue today but his black tie is how it was last week, hanging loose around his neck. “White Russian?” 

“Coming right up.” Phil pulls himself up off a barstool and back around the counter. This night, in particular, is slow. Not even the Monday regulars are in, but that’s probably because there is an actual hurricane outside, and no one in their right mind would be out. Except for Dan apparently. 

Phil sets the drink in front of the wind-blown, half drenched man. 

"Slow night?" 

"Well, uh…" Phil points to the window that now looks like a waterfall, seeing nothing but running water on the other side of the glass. 

"Yeah," Dan says, smacking his lips before taking a big gulp of his drink. "The law stops for nothing, not even for literally the worst storm of the year."

"Oh?" Phil pours himself a whisky before going back to the other side of the bar, leaving a seat between Dan and himself. "Work in a firm or something?" 

A coy smile plays on Dan's lips that have a wet sheen to them. He pulls a card from the inside breast pocket of his coat and hands it to Phil. 

Howell & Sons  
Daniel Howell  
(555) 555-7548

“I assume you’re the ‘Sons’ part.” Phil holds the card back to Dan. 

“Keep it. I specialize in LGBTQ+ cases. You know, if you guys ever need anything.” The smile on Dan’s face is genuine.

“Noted. Might come in handy on Funderwear Friday’s. Gets a little weird in here.” 

“Funderwear Friday’s?” Dan’s eyebrows shoot up. 

“Yeah, I thought it was weird at first too. I never thought I would get used to seeing a bunch of blokes in thongs.”

Dan laughs. “So you’re telling me if I come in here Friday night I get to see you in a thong?” 

“No, no, not me,” Phil laughs as heat rushes to his cheeks. “I'll be in my jeans and jumper, as usual.”

“Damn.” Dan sips his drink. 

*~*

Never in Phil’s life did he ever think he would get used to Dan Howell. At first, Dan made his heart beat too fast and his face burn too hot. There is no subtlety. If there's one thing Phil realizes, it’s that Dan is, in fact, a lawyer, and he has the confidence to prove it.

“Phil, has anyone ever told you you’ve got beautiful eyes?” Dan asks one night after three drinks. 

It stops Phil in his tracks because, well, no one has ever told him that. “Uh, no.” Phil laughs. He always laughs when Dan says something that is beyond flirty. Usually, when patrons flirt, it’s easy to shrug off. Act like it doesn’t happen. And he never thinks much of it really. But when Dan flirts, it feels like more. More than drunken stupor. 

“Well, it’s true.” Dan smiles a dimpled smile as the man down the bar slaps the bar and yells at Phil, making him remember the two beers in his hand. 

It’s a Thursday and Dan has been coming in for almost a month now. Not every day, but at least once a week he walks in, his tie pulled loose and looking like he’d just walked into the best place he’d ever set foot in. 

When it slows down, Phil sips his water and leans up against the bar in front of Dan. 

“You weren’t here Monday.” Dan is fully intoxicated now, his eyes glazed over and cheeks bright red. 

“I had a family dinner.” Phil can’t help but notice how Dan’s eyes linger on him more now. 

“Ah. I see. Well - ” Dan hiccups. “Well, I missed you. Jimmy was here, but he isn’t nearly as fun.” 

“Oh? Usually, people say the opposite.”

“I mean, Jimmy is fit, don’t get me wrong, but you’re nice to talk to.” 

A strange pang hits Phil’s stomach. Jimmy is fit. But hearing Dan say those words feels weird. “Well, I’m glad I’m not just another pretty face,” Phil says sarcastically. 

“But you aren’t, Phil!” Dan says in exasperation throwing his hands towards Phil. “You actually listen to how much I hate my job, and respond. Jimmy just asks if I want another round.” He pouts. 

Phil laughs at the mental image of Dan trying to explain law to Jimmy. To be fair, he doesn't know much about law either, but Phil likes to think he knows a little. “Want another round?”

“Oh, now you’re just taking the piss.” Dan shoves at Phil but his smile is wide. He calms down and sighs. “Phil, I think I love you.”

Phil chokes on his water. “Dan, you don’t know me.” 

“Hmm, but I think I do.” 

“I think it’s time to call your Uber.” 

Dan ponders this for a second. “I think you’re right.” 

*~*

“I appreciate it so so so so - ”

“So much, yeah. Trust me, I could use the tips anyway.” 

Phil hangs the phone up and takes one last, giant sip of his coffee. What started as a nice day for him to sit at his favorite coffee shop writing has turned into a quick lunch break before heading to the bar. He packs up his laptop and wonders if he should order another coffee. Yes, his brain tells him. 

The line isn’t long for a Saturday at lunchtime, and for that he is thankful. Saturday’s shifts were for the more experienced bartenders, but Aaron’s sister ended up in A&E and who was he to say no? It would be Phil, Jimmy, and Julie running up and down the packed bar as some local lesbian band played. It would be a decent night. 

“Is it weird for you to be on this side of the counter?”

Phil turns at the voice suddenly close to his ear. 

“Oi, mate.” Phil giggles when he sees Dan standing behind him. “Is it weird to have that tie on right for once?” It startles Phil to see Dan put together. His hair is curled perfectly and the sides of his head look recently shaved. The black tie is perfectly pushed tight against his slim neck. His coat is lint-free, his shoes shiny black leather, and his smile is infectious. 

"Good one. But usually during the day, I'm not sloppy tipsy flirting with cute bartenders. I have a very serious job, Phil." The faux-serious look he wears is priceless. 

"Well, I would say you should come out tonight so you can be in your natural habitat, but Jimmy will be too busy dealing with fixing the orders I'll most likely get wrong." 

There is mirth behind Dan's brown eyes as he points to the counter where the barista is waiting for Phil to order. 

"Caramel macchiato please," Phil says, pulling his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. 

"Make that two." Dan lays a twenty down and pushes Phil's wallet away. 

"You don't have to do that." 

"Shh, I want to. Take it as an apology since I won't be there tonight to tip you." 

*~*

Despite Phil fully knowing how busy work would be tonight, he's still overwhelmed. The band is loud and the customers are too drunk. He's not doing as bad as he thought he would at remembering orders and tabs, but he still is half-out of breath from walking up and down the bar handing out Jell-o shots and beers. 

Whatever higher being there might be out there hears his pleas when Aaron comes in around ten o'clock. Apparently, his sister's emergency was less of one than originally thought. Still, Julie asks Phil to stay and he says yes. The tips have been good enough that even with another person here it won't matter. 

Jimmy goes on his lunch and Phil takes a shot of vodka. Once the band gets into full swing and most the overhead lights go down, the bar slows; Phil can calm down. That is, until he looks down the bar and at the very end, he sees Dan waving him down. 

"What're you doing here?" Phil asks, taking Dan his usual drink. 

"What can I say? I just couldn't pass up seeing my Phil." 

The possessiveness should feel weird, but Phil rather likes the thought of him being Dan's. 

"You're not wearing your suit." 

"I took the time to make myself look decent." He's wearing a striped jumper and black skinny jeans and his hair looks just as good as it did earlier at the coffee shop. 

"I dunno, I kinda miss the tie." Phil places a hand on his chest and juts his bottom lip out. 

"Okay," Dan laughs. "So you have a tie fetish. I'll note that." 

Phil goes back to running up and down the bar and collecting his tips. When Dan asks for three shots of tequila, Phil gives him a disapproving look but Dan just winks. 

"Come dance with me, Phil," Dan whines, the smell of tequila coating his words. 

"Dan, I'm working." Phil chuckles and takes the ten Dan lays down for him even though he doesn't like how much Dan tips. 

"Phil, go on break." Jimmy comes up behind him and claps him on the shoulder. "And remember, what happens on break, stays on break." He sends Phil a knowing glance before heading back to other customers. 

With a hand extended, Dan stands at the opening of the bar.

Phil takes a shot of vodka before taking Dan's hand.

The music is pop-y and upbeat. The Brownstone looks less like a bear bar tonight and more like an all-around gay bar. Girls are hanging on each other and boys are kissing and Phil feels the heat of Dan's hand on his waist. They stay on the outskirts of the crowd, away from the small stage in the corner. Dan's hands grab onto Phil's waist lightly from behind. Phil leans his head back onto Dan's shoulder and laughs. 

"What?" Dan asks, his smile bright under the dim lights.

"I can't dance," Phil says into Dan's ear over the ruckus of the bar.

"You don't have to actually do anything. Just sway with me." Dan's hands sneak their way into the front pockets of Phil's jeans. They're warm and not wandering. Perhaps Phil wishes that maybe they were wandering as he places his hands over Dan's.

"Like this?" With more courage than Phil thought he had, he presses his whole body up against Dan and slowly moves his hips to the beat, allowing himself to welcome the heat of Dan's body against his. 

"Exactly like that," Dan practically purrs, his voice low and mouth close enough to Phil's ear to send a shiver down his spine. 

They move together like they've done this a million times. Phil can feel that Dan's hard and he's trying to remember that soon he'll have to go back to work. And that he shouldn't be dancing with a customer. He fails when Dan's head ducks down and places a kiss to his neck. He pulls away slightly and gives Dan a playful warning glance. Dan laughs. 

The song morphs into something slower. Less sensual, more romantic. Dan pulls his hands from Phil's pockets and spins him around. One arm snakes around Phil's back and the other is asking for his hand. Easily, Phil takes Dan's hand and places his other around his shoulders before resting his head there. 

The song is sweet. It's about slow kisses and being in love. Phil can't relate. He doesn't think he's ever been in love. When he looks up at Dan who's looking at him like he's the best thing since White Russians, it's almost too much for Phil. It's too romantic. It's too real. Dan is a customer. 

As the song fades out, Phil can see Dan looking between his eyes and mouth. Under other circumstances, Phil would have met Dan halfway. But Phil has rent to pay and a job to get back to. 

"Thanks, for uh...thanks." Phil pulls away and Dan's face falls for a second before he smiles. 

"No, thank you." Dan bows and Phil laughs before waving and going back to the bar. 

*~* 

An hour before close, they send Phil off, and he's not complaining. Before he leaves he stuffs most of his tips in his socks and pants. He's heard stories from Jimmy. London wasn't a bad place, but at two in the morning, Phil wasn't about to take his chances. 

When he steps outside onto the patio, he notices a mop of brown hair sitting at one of the benches, looking down the street. 

"Waiting for your Uber?" 

Dan turns his head slowly, a drunk smile on his face. "Phone died." Dan holds up his phone. 

"Want me to call you one?" Phil goes over and sits next to him. 

"Phil, you're the best," Dan says, throwing an arm over Phil's shoulder. 

"I know." Phil laughs. 

"We should go out sometime. Like...on a date." Dan's breath smells like tequila. 

"You're my customer, Dan." He doesn't want to say that. He wants to say yes. "What's your address?" 

"You won't go on a date with me but you wanna go back to mine?" 

"Dan, for your Uber." 

"Fuck. I mean, that's what we could be doing tonight but you're being a party pooper." Dan takes Phil's phone, pulls his arm back off Phil's shoulders, and types in his address. When Dan hands the phone back he asks, "Do I make you uncomfortable? Honestly, cause I'll stop." 

"No. Honestly, I enjoy our banter. It's nice to have someone I can talk to so easily." It's not a secret that Phil isn't the best at comfortably speaking with people. At least at work, he can put on his customer service facade. With Dan, there is no mask though. He just talks to Dan like a friend. A friend that he sometimes eye-fucks. No big deal. 

"Then I can keep flirting with you?" Dan is uncharacteristically bashful. Phil thinks it's cute. 

"Flirt it up." 

"I think I love you, Phil." 

"Dan, your Uber is here."


End file.
